Child's Play
by RainbowAnatomy
Summary: There is a chessboard set up in the center of the room.
1. Chapter 1

**~Child's Play~**

 _"Love is for children, I owe him a debt."_

 **A/N:** I was rewatching The Avengers and as always, Natasha's line about love gets me every time. This time I decided to write about it. Who can blame me, I love Scarlet Widow.

 **DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, you'd know it.**

 **~Child's Play~**

* * *

Love is for children. A game people play when they are young and naïve as to what the disease can do to them. Natasha Romanoff is above it. She has never liked games, and she most certainly does not play them.

 _After falling for Bruce Banner, it was like trying to cut out a part of her, trying to rid herself of the infection that swallowed her bloodstream. She had played the game. She had loved. She had lost. She cut out a part of her self and let it obliterate with the flying city._

Natasha Romanoff is a grown woman. She has no business in child's play. She withdraws her stock in love and finishes bleeding her feelings over her work. She trains her new soldiers, a reassembling of Earth's mightiest heroes, along side the Captain. War is not a game. It is destruction. She was raised in destruction. It is why she fights.

 _Wanda Maximoff never knew there was a game to be played. There was only one person in her life that she loved, and he had been killed trying to be a hero. She never played games because her life had been constant fighting. There was little left of her. She wondered what it would be like to be whole._

There is a chessboard set up in the center of the room. Natasha Romanoff sits at it, moving each piece with careful consideration, rotating the board as she switches sides. This is what she does in her spare time in order to forget that there is so little of her left. She is good at strategy.

"Hello, Ms. Romanoff," a gentle voice comes from the other side of the room. Natasha does not look up from her pawns.

"I told you, Wanda. Call me Natasha," she says, making a move, rotating the board, "What's up?"

"Is that chess, Natasha?" The voice is closer now, right by her side.

"Yes."

"Do you mind if we start a game?"

"I don't like to think of it as a game, Wanda. Games are for children. But, to answer your question, no, I don't mind. Have a seat."

Wanda Maximoff slides into the seat across from her, a careful, shy smile on her lips. Natasha finally looks up from the pieces, staring into the green doe eyes across from her and finds herself smiling back.

The chess match takes place mostly in silence, without eye contact. Neither discloses their strategy as they make their pieces dance across the checkered patterned wood. Wanda clears her throat to break the silence twelve minutes later.

"You said you do not think of this as a game, Natasha?" Wanda murmurs, making a move, corner of her lips quirking.

"That's right, Wanda. I don't play games," Natasha confirms, taking her turn.

"That is a shame," Wanda continues, taking one of Natasha's pieces for her own.

"Oh? Why's that?" Natasha counters by taking one of Wanda's pawns.

"Because sometimes, it is fun to play games," Wanda looks Natasha dead in the eye as she makes her next move, "Checkmate."

"What?" Natasha gasps, watching as Wanda knocks her king down, "How did-," she bites back her words and nods approvingly, "Well. Good game, Wanda."

Wanda smiles, more confident this time, as she stands up from the table, crossing around to a stunned Natasha, who looks up at her, smiling back again.

"Thank you, Natasha," Wanda murmurs, leaning down and placing a small kiss on Natasha's lips, sending shivers down both of their spines, "We should play games more often, hm?"

With that, Wanda turns and walks away as quietly as she came. Natasha stares after her, shaking her head.

"Well I'll be damned, Maximoff," she whispers, touching her still tingling lips, "You've just beat me at a game I didn't know I was playing."

Natasha Romanoff is a fighter. She has no times for children's games like love. However, sitting there in the once-again empty room, she is left feeling more of herself than she has since she watched Sokovia go up in flames. There is one thing she is better at than strategy. And that is winning. As she stares after Wanda, she thinks maybe she has won after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I just really really really like this pairing, ok guys? Think of these more like bonus chapters of Natasha falling in love. The first chapter can stand alone, these following are for your indulgence only. It's kind of all really crappy, but I had to get it down. Enjoy.

* * *

The chess match at first becomes a weekly thing. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in the center of the room, strategizing, a quickly chilling cup of coffee on her right. She is trying desperately to forget the feeling of the kiss. But no matter how many times she resets the board, she is unable to shake it. So she is trying to lose herself in the checkered board, instead. She does not have time for games; she most certainly cannot make time for love.

Natasha Romanoff's phone beeps next to her. It is the third time the thing has gone off. She already knows who it is. Her fingers itch to respond. Instead, she moves her white bishop and rotates to the black rook. The digital clock on her left grows louder and louder by each passing second. She looks at it briefly, trying to ignore the fact she immediately knows that a week has past since someone had gotten her to play a game.

"Are you ignoring me, Natasha?" a quiet voice echoes throughout the room from the doorway. She grits her teeth at how pained the voice sounds.

"Not at all, Wanda," Natasha responds without looking up, knowing that if she does, she will remember what it is like to be whole again.

"Then why are you not answering my calls?"

"I've been busy." She gestures to her chessboard.

"You always play yourself," Wanda Maximoff coos, hand running lightly over Natasha's shoulder, "Why do you do that?"

"It's easier that way," Natasha mumbles, brushing off the touch. She can feel Wanda frown, hurt. Inside, a part of her that she thought had gone missing throbs painfully as well.

"It is no fun to be alone."

"It's not about fun, Wanda, we aren't children. It's a strategy."

"Fine. I will leave. If... That is what you want." Natasha can hear Wanda start to walk away. She needs to let her go, needs to let her walk out that door. She cannot win this game. There is too much at stake-

"Wait," she whispers, almost inaudible. Wanda's footsteps stop, voice hopeful,

"Yes, Natasha?"

The way her name sounds on Wanda's lips makes another part of her awaken, growling, hungry.

"Come back," she continues, feeling her tone turn pleading as she turns to face Wanda, "I'm sorry."

Wanda smiled at her, her green doe eyes dancing. In her mute forgiveness, she returns to the table, to the chessboard, and begins to reset the pieces.

It is another silent round. Wanda does not even speak as she victoriously claims Natasha's king again. She just stares at Natasha's eyes as she does so, watching the grey flicker, surprised, then approving, and finally, when Natasha looks up and meets her gaze, defeated. Yet she smiles.

"Congratulations, again, Wanda," Natasha finds herself chuckling, "You've beat me again."

"How can I beat you if this is not a game?" Wanda teases.

"Right... Of course."

"I am simply strategizing."

They smirk at each other across the table. Then, to Natasha's unwanted delight, Wanda rises from her seat and comes around to her side.

"Wanda, I-" she starts, unsure if what's about to come out is a plea to stop, or a plea to continue. She never has to answer that question, because Wanda's lips close over hers, so gently, so faintly, barely there, but burning deep into her veins nonetheless.

"Shall we strategize again next week, Natasha?" Wanda murmurs her question across Natasha's lips as she pulls away.

Natasha finds herself nodding, dazed. This affirmation brings another smile to Wanda's face. With a wave, she leaves the room.

So much of Natasha Romanoff is on fire. Everything she fought to ignore, everything she had to rebuild, is starting to crumble. The coffee is remembered. She takes a sip and promptly spits it out. It's cold. Sighing, she looks at the year on the digital clock, forcing her to remember that she is an adult. Silently, completely, looking around at the once-again empty room, she wishes she were young again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This is more of a fluff chapter. Natasha is hella childish here. She's learning. I love her.

* * *

After a few more weeks, it becomes a daily meeting. Each time, Natasha Romanoff becomes more and more whole. She no longer ignores her phone when it goes off, grinning like a child when she picks up and hears the gentle voice on the other line. Sometimes she catches herself wondering why she declared love a game in the first place.

Wanda Maximoff is slowly undoing her, chipping cracks into the walls Natasha has built to keep everyone out. It starts when Wanda arrives the next day, after Natasha has finally successfully beaten her the previous day, playfully declaring a rematch. Except it does not happen exactly like that.

Natasha is opening the room, trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach. After she had beat Wanda yesterday, the parting kiss was longer than usual, deeper, singeing every nerve in her body. She now cannot wait for next week. So absorbed in her indulgent dabbling in child's play, she does not notice someone creeping up on her.

So when arms wrap around her waist, she reacts as she was raised, sending the person sprawling to the floor before even turning around.

"Natasha!" she hears Wanda shout. She whirls around and finds Wanda rising to her feet, eyes hand hands flickering red.

"Wanda, I'm so-" she starts, before seeing the wicked smile cross Wanda's face.

"You are going to pay for that, Natasha," Wanda purrs. Before she can react, Wanda sends her backwards crashing through the door with her powers, launching herself after her. They slam into the opposing wall, Natasha first, Wanda hot on her heels. Despite the initial pang of pain she feels, looking at Wanda's teasing face, she can only laugh as she tries to wrestle back.

However, she finds her limbs immobile against the wall. Wanda presses harder with her power, wall starting to fracture a little, smirking. She is so close, breath billowing across her face. Natasha smirks back and leans her head in instead, stealing a kiss from the woman pressing her to the wall. This is enough to distract Wanda.

Natasha Romanoff is very good at strategy. When the red restrains vanish at the contact, she breaks away, driving her shoulder into Wanda's, bumping her backwards to the table. Wanda gasps at the trick, disoriented enough to fail to catch herself. Natasha strolls over, only to be flung back again, the fractures in the wall giving way to huge cracks at the power behind Wanda's attack.

She slips to the floor, rebounding by grabbing the closest object next to her – a small potted plant – and hurling it at Wanda. It is immediately frozen in red light and cast aside.

"Do you think you can beat me, Natasha?" Wanda asks. Natasha laughs as she gets back to her feet, Wanda now standing in front of her again. They are both breathing heavily, exhilarated by the impromptu spar.  
"This is strategy, Wanda," Natasha purrs, grabbing her by her shoulders. Wanda raises an eyebrow, eyes green again, waiting to see what happens next. Natasha kisses her again, holding her by her shoulders, and Wanda responds by wrapping her arms back around Natasha's waist, the action that got them into the spar in the first place.

"And I am _very_ good at strategies," Natasha murmurs, pulling away, pitching Wanda around back into the wall. It gives way, and they go tumbling into the next room, into one of the smaller training rooms specifically designed to accommodate the Captain's (and the god of Thunder's, should he be there) super strength. They are children. They are playing. They are whole.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** More fluff and filler because. Well. I don't need a reason to indulge in how much i love Scarlet Widow. Enjoy.

* * *

Natasha Romanoff knows what love feels like. She knows how much it hurts. She has gotten used to feeling like a fighter. She decided love is for children. Or, maybe, that was the only thing she was taught in the _Red Room_ , where love was weakness and certain death. Maybe that is why she is a fighter: to outrun the game.

Wanda Maximoff is looking up at Natasha like a lover, green doe eyes empty of red power. "I surrender, Natasha," she murmurs, letting her pin her arms over her head as she kisses her again and again and again.

"You do?" Natasha chuckles, leaning back. Fire returns to Wanda's eyes.

"Never!" She flips Natasha onto her back, digging her fingers into her hips, tickling her.

Natasha has never been tickled. There was no place for laughter in the _Red Room_ , and she was too intimidating for anyone to try. But Wanda is sending her into a caterwaul of laughter as she squirms. The tickling soon turns painful, though she is unable to get Wanda off, simply laughing, writhing, tearing up, unable to understand her finding pleasure in this.

"Wanda, knock it off!" she wheezes, arching her back off the floor, trying to throw her off.

"Do you surrender, Natasha?" Wanda asks over her squeals for mercy.

"Yes! I surrender!"  
The tickling stops. Natasha is breathless. Wanda is looking down at her like a lover, head inching closer and closer to hers as she tries to breathe again, knowing she won't be able to because Wanda is so close, on top of her.

The training room door swings open. Natasha springs up before anyone can assume anything. Wanda tumbles off into a pile of plaster dust.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" the Captain asks, standing in the doorframe, frowning slightly.

"Language, Rogers," Natasha quips, her face still pink with laughter. Steve Rogers takes in the sight of them, plaster clumped in their hair, chunks of wall in piles around them.

"What happened?" he repeats. Natasha glances at Wanda. Wanda glances at Natasha. They grin at each other.  
"Natasha beat me in chess yesterday," Wanda starts, "I came to challenge her to a rematch. I made the mistake of sneaking up on her."

Steve shifts his gaze to Natasha and cocks an eyebrow.

"Really, Natasha?" he asks. The condescending tone rocks her to her very core. It's a tone reserved for children. She is not a child. Wanda watches the smile fade from Natasha's face as she nods in affirmation.

"I'll get Stark to fix it," he comments, shaking his head, "Honestly, are you both children?"

"Well, everyone's a child compared to you, Popsicle," Natasha finds her tongue forming the words before she can stop them, calling the Captain the nickname Tony Stark had given him.

There is silence in the training room. Wanda watches Natasha stare down Steve. And then a slow smile stretches across his face.

"I'm glad you're having fun, Natasha," he tells her, "I was beginning to think you'd never fall in love again."

 _Love is for children, Steve_ , she thinks reflexively.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Stark should be down soon." With that, Steve Rogers leaves, chuckling. Wanda watches Natasha, breath caught in her throat. Steve Rogers had mentioned love.

Natasha is counting in her head, all the ways she has fallen in love with Wanda in the past month, in the past six months, since the flying city.

Natasha can feel Wanda watching her, waiting to see what she will do, strategizing her next action. She simply turns to her, eyes distant. Than they are staring into hers, warm, happy, inviting.

"Do you still want to play chess, Wanda?" Natasha asks, holding out her hand. In wordless acceptance of the offer, Wanda laces their fingers together. They climb through the hole they made in the wall. This time, Natasha Romanoff is ready to play the game.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Final chapter, y'all. Takes place during Civil War, partially in Lagos, partially afterwards, italics indicating memories like in the first chapter. Instead of Steve going to Wanda, it is Natasha who does. I guess this chapter will shift narrators a little bit, sorry. Hope y'all have enjoyed this ride with me.

* * *

Natasha Romanoff is on a mission in Lagos, Nigeria. It is the first time she has been afraid in a long time. The Captain had spoken to her before they boarded the quinjet, catching her after she finished a chess match.

 _"Romanoff, you up for a little adventure?" Steve Rogers asked, stopping her before she could leave the room. She grinned._

 _"What did you have in mind, Rogers?" she asked, feeling her muscles itching, ready._

 _"Maximoff, you, too," Steve called over his shoulder. Wanda Maximoff turned hesitantly. She had been preparing for this, her first mission._

 _"Yes, Steve?" she promoted._

 _"Come with me and Romanoff. We have to go meet Sam."_

Natasha Romanoff isn't afraid for herself. She's learned to be expendable, to be ok with that, even if she is one of the bests. She is afraid for the woman sitting behind her: it is Wanda Maximoff's first mission since the flying city. It's different, this time. The Hulk was near indestructible. The Scarlet Witch... One slip, one moment where her powers slip, and it could be the end.

 _"Natasha, stay here for a minute," Steve Rogers told her. Sam Wilson breezed out the door, Wanda behind him, pausing to give a nod and a wink to Natasha, before the doors slid shut behind them._

 _"Yeah, Cap?" Natasha asked, still flipping through Crossbone's profile. Steve waved his hand over the technology and it vanishes. She shot him a look, hoping the fear in her eyes wasn't showing._

 _"You're going to be ok, right?" he asked._

 _"With what?"_

 _"Wanda coming with us."_

 _"Why wouldn't I be?"_

 _"Well, you guys are-"_

 _"What? We're what?" Her voice raised an octave. He sighed, shaking his head._

 _"Never mind. I know you can handle it. And so can she. It's what we've been training her for."_

 _"Yes," she murmurs. She trains her soldiers along side him, and she does it well. "I know."_

Afterwards, Wanda Maximoff is in her room, hugging her knees to her chest, watching the news on Lagos. As her face flashes on the screen, she shudders, staring down at her own hands. She swears she can see blood.

"You have to stop watching that," a soft voice comes from her door. Wanda, despite knowing all she's destroyed, smiles.

"I am ok, Natasha," she whispers.

"No, you're not." Natasha Romanoff sits down next to her. Though they do not touch, do not kiss, Wanda takes relief in the presence of her. "What do you need, Wanda?"

"Do you remember when I lost my brother?" Wanda asks. The grief is palpable.

"Yes."

"I keep thinking about all the families who lost their loved ones. Because of me."

"Our job is to save as many people as possible, Wanda... Sometimes, that doesn't mean everyone."

Wanda looks at her, green doe eyes rimmed with no sleep, filled with fear.

"How did you do it?" she asks, "In the _Red Room_?"

Natasha knows she will one day have to explain what Wanda saw in her head months ago. Today, however, she doesn't want to relive her childhood.

"I like to tell myself that I'm fighting the good fights now," Natasha tells her instead, "It helps."

"You cry at night, sometimes, Natasha." The fear has turned to sorrow in Wanda's eyes. Natasha wraps an arm around her shaking shoulders, pulling her close, kissing her head.

"So do you, Wanda."

"I guess we are both trying to cope, then."

"Yeah, well, it's a little easier with you."

Wanda's eyes light up with happiness.

"You know I love you, Natasha," Wanda breathes, leaning in, pressing a kiss similar to their first on her waiting lips.

 _Love is for children. Love is a silly game people play,_ she thinks reflexively. But she knows how much she's learned about it, she's been ready since their spar months ago.

"I love you, too, Wanda. I hope you know that," Natasha whispers back. She untangles their embrace and stands up.

"Where are you going?" Wanda asks, not wanting to be alone with her guilt. Natasha turns over her shoulder.

"Chess," she tells her, "Are you coming?"

They smile at each other. In their destruction, a small flower is blooming. In her silent acceptance, Wanda turns off the TV and rises to her feet. Natasha holds out her hand and they lace their fingers together.

There is a chessboard in the middle of the room, a rebuilt wall, and two people trying to cope with the destruction and war in the world. They sit at the table and play the game they have already won.


End file.
